


Rules Are Rules

by hstevens5



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Horror, Protective Dean Winchester, Scared Dean Winchester, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hstevens5/pseuds/hstevens5
Summary: Dean stops at a rundown motel hoping him and Y/N can get a few hours of sleep before heading home. Instead, they find unspeakable horrors. Can they escape the motel with their lives?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Rules Are Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This is another in my SPN horror AU crossover series. As always, I change some of the plot to make it make sense for Sam or Dean Winchester. 
> 
> Warnings: Horror level descriptions, canon-level violence, slight swearing. 
> 
> Spoilers for Vacancy (2007) below.

Dean had been driving half of the night when he saw the “Pinewood Motel” sign, orange and white glowing across the wet parking lot. Y/N was sprawled out in the back seat, snoring softly, your head resting on one of Dean’s flannels that he figured you must have stolen from his bag when he wasn’t looking. He chuckled to himself, guiding Baby into the deserted parking lot, turning to a stop in front of the lit ‘office’ door. Dean glanced back at Y/N, but you were fast asleep, so he left you to it, stepping out of the car and heading into the office to get a room for the night.

He stepped aside, holding the door open for the couple that looked like they either couldn’t get away from the manager, or away from each other, fast enough.

“Y’all have a great night!” The guy behind the desk yelled in farewell, eyeing the couple as they exited out the door. Dean nodded at the man leaving, and he grimaced back, looking like he had driven just as long as Dean had. 

The office manager was a sleazy looking guy, dressed like he stepped straight out of the ‘70s, thick framed glasses and all. He looked a bit put out, at having multiple guests in a row, the door behind him hiding whatever porn the guy was likely enjoying moments before. 

“Now, what can I do you for?” He turned to Dean leaning on the counter top. 

“Just a room.” Dean grunted out, careful to keep an eye on the Impala, Y/N still asleep in the back seat. He slapped down a few bills on the counter, figuring the run down place only accepted cash. 

“You got it.” The guy replied, reaching behind him to grab a simple key with an old school keychain off of the wall, the number 6 scratched off lightly. “Just gonna need to see some ID.” Dean narrowed his eyes, but pulled out his wallet producing the ID he had been using on the hunt him and Y/N were returning from. The hunt that turned out to be a complete waste of time. 

“Alright Mr. Vaughan, I’ve got you up in number 6, just around the corner.” Dean thanked the man quickly, rapping his knuckles on the counter and heading back out to the Impala, the guy watching his every move before disappearing behind the wooden door behind him. Dean backed Baby out of the spot quickly, heading toward the door with the rusted #6 on it. He didn’t want to wake you up, but wasn’t sure how to grab the bags and you and make it through the door. 

You grunted softly, voice still thick with sleep, when Dean shook your shoulder. Rubbing your eyes you glanced out toward the room illuminated by the headlights of the car, and smiled at Dean in appreciation. 

“Finally,” you moaned out, stretching your arms above your head. “A real bed.” Dean chuckled lowly and followed you out of the car, grabbing yours and his duffle from the trunk. 

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up for a great nights sleep here, sweetheart.” He said, opening the door to their room and ushering Y/N in from the eery parking lot. 

“Well,” you took in the room around you, simple brass wall decor, and minty green comforter. “We’ve stayed in worse.” You concluded with a shrug. 

“Yeah, remember that place in Albuquerque?” You shuttered in response, thinking about curling yourself up on the leather chair in the corner in the place that you were sure had bed bugs. Dean laughed lightly at your reaction, but gestured toward the bathroom. “You wanna take a shower?” You smirked at him suggestively, and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. But you shook your head, wanting to go back to sleep, and besides, the hunt hadn’t turned into any action that would require you to wash the blood away anyway. Dean shut himself away in the bathroom without another word. As if on cue, you heard a dull pounding sound against one of the walls, but you shrugged it off concluding that it was probably the tenants in the next room going at it. You heard a muffled voice yell something followed with a loud “asshole!” And you chuckled to yourself. Motel living wasn’t without it’s perks. The sounds had you reminiscing. This wasn’t the first time you stayed in a motel with Dean, but usually it was with Sam as well, and you would have had to be blind to not notice the one lone bed sitting in the middle of the room Dean directed you into minutes before. You stared at the pea-colored sheets and pillows getting a bit nervous at the prospect of sharing a bed, alone, with Dean. It all seemed very romance novely, and you shook the not so innocent thoughts from your head. 

Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the ancient remote control next to you, flipping on the tube television against the opposite wall. Huffing in annoyance, you clicked the remote a few times, each channel coming up with static and white noise. You noticed a few VHS tapes on top of the TV, so you popped one in saying a silent prayer that if it was porn, at least be porn with a plot. 

The tape opened with an up close view of a man with rope tied tightly across his neck. Two other men were shoving him around roughly, and though you were one for horror movies, you were about to turn it off when a wide angle gave you the perfect view of the weird brass art and orange couch that mirrored the ones that were set up in the very room you were sitting in. The two men hoisted the other up, using a rope to hang him from the neck by the ceiling. You were so shocked by what you were seeing, you didn’t hear Dean step out of the bathroom, and come stand next to you. 

“What is this?” He asked quietly, and you jumped, his hand coming out to hold you steady by the shoulder. 

“Dean,” you gasped, suddenly struggling to take in enough air to breath normally. “I think this video was recorded in one of these rooms.” Dean scoffed a little, but looked into your eyes, seeing how serious you were, so he focused back on the TV, the movie continuing to play. There were 3 other tapes on top of the VCR, so Dean ejected the one that was currently playing, and popped in another, letting the VCR whirr to life before pressing play. You moved to sit back on the bed, watching Dean take in the next video, which seemed to be two girls from the loud screams that erupted from the tiny TV speakers. Dean’s head was blocking the screen, but you could hear the screaming loud and clear, and you pressed the palms of your hands against your ears, hoping to drown out the noise. You couldn’t hear what was happening anymore, but Dean stood to his full height, taking in the room around you, turning this way and that putting the pieces together. You took a quick glance at the screen just in time to see a blonde head being shoved into the bedside lamp that was right next to you. Standing suddenly, you took in the rest of the room just as Dean had.

“What is this?” You finally asked, Dean grunting out an “I don’t know,” in response, walking swiftly across the room to peer into an air vent precariously placed on the wall. One of the girls on the screen was being stabbed multiple times, so as Dean walked across the room once more, you shut off the TV, bathing the room in silence. Dean came and stood next to you, and suddenly the lights in the room went out, the faint thud you heard earlier returning. You unconsciously moved forward shielding yourself behind Dean, who drew his gun, when the lights turned on again, pulsing on and off to the beat of the thuds next door. This wasn’t a situation either of you had ever been in before, and the hilarious thought that maybe you were both stuck in a horror movie crossed your mind. Dean stood still, hunter instinct on overdrive, as he used his senses to determine where, and what, the risk was. 

“Where’s your gun, Y/N?” Dean asked suddenly. You reached behind you, hoping to feel cool metal. When you didn’t, you looked up at Dean guiltily, and he grunted out a “son of a bitch,” realizing we only had 1 weapon between us, and who knows what hiding around this motel.

“Okay, okay.” Dean said, glancing around the room again, formulating a game plan. He grabbed your hand roughly, and walked swiftly toward the bathroom, pushing aside the ugly grey curtain and slamming down on the tiny window. 

“Dammit!” He yelled, seeing the nails haphazardly hammered into the soft wood of the window, keeping it permanently closed. 

“Dean,” you whispered, getting him to stop pounding on the window. “Come on, let’s find a different way.” Dean nodded and you headed toward the bathroom door, when he pulled you back by the arm. 

“When did you bring this in?” He questioned, seeing the familiar fabric of his red and black checkered flannel, laying across the edge of the sink. You looked at him questionably. You hadn’t even gone into the bathroom. 

“I didn’t,” you whispered again, eyes widening when you realized you had left the shirt in the back seat of the Impala. “What’s happening?” You whimpered more to yourself, but Dean pulled you out of the bathroom and proceeded to tear it apart, tugging the towels from the racks and pulling the shower curtain from its rod roughly, uncovering whoever, or whatever, must have still been inside. 

“How could they get in…” You whispered again, beginning to feel more and more frightened the longer Dean was losing control, not able to find the answers for himself. 

“I don’t know,” He muttered, returning to the main room, and shutting off all of the lamps, bathing the room in uncomfortable darkness for a second time that night.


End file.
